


Sweet Dream

by faicotone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post 3a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faicotone/pseuds/faicotone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second day on the road, his phone vibrated and the screen lit up, a number he never saved but remember all too well written on it. Derek pulled over and stared at it for almost 10 seconds---trying to think of what to say and unable to---then picked up.</p>
<p>Stiles didn’t talk like he used to, in fact, he didn’t talk at all. Both of them just stayed silent, listening to each other breathing. They were still breathing. That was more than he could ever ask for.</p>
<p>After another minute had passed, Stiles finally spoke. “I don’t want to lose you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before 3b started but didn't really feel like posting it until now (probably because I have recently run out of ways to procrastinate). So this is no longer canon compliant. Hope you guys like it.
> 
> This is un-beta. I will be back to fix grammar mistakes and things like that later because I really need to get to work now. DAMN IT I can't wait until I finish high school URGH

He left without saying goodbye.

The second day on the road, his phone vibrated and the screen lit up, a number he never saved but remember all too well written on it. Derek pulled over and stared at it for almost 10 seconds---trying to think of what to say and unable to---then picked up.

Stiles didn’t talk like he used to, in fact, he didn’t talk at all. Both of them just stayed silent, listening to each other breathing. _They were still breathing._ That was more than he could ever ask for.

After another minute had passed, Stiles finally spoke. “I don’t want to lose you.”

His voice was calm and steady, the way it always was whenever he felt broken. Derek hated it.

_You always have me._ Derek found himself wanting to say. But he couldn’t, because it wasn’t true, not anymore.

Then Stiles hanged up, and he hadn’t called again ever since.

 

-*-*-*-

 

It took Scott three weeks, before he finally felt desperate enough to call Derek. Cora picked his phone up for him while he was making them dinner. It was his phone, so he shamelessly listened in. Cora asked him about everyone and Scott answered. Probably knowing Derek was listening, he told them about his pack, about how Lydia was experimenting with her newfound power, how Isaac had moved in to live with the McCalls, how Allison had officially joined her family business to fight along side her father. And then he told them about Stiles.

It took Derek one day to get back.

He left the car with Cora and caught the first flight back to California. No one actually knew he was coming, so he took a bus that got him nearest to Beacon Hills and ran the rest of the way to the Stilinskis’ house.  It was almost midnight when he got there but the light in Stiles’ room was still on. Derek stayed in the shadow, listened to Stiles’ thunderous heartbeat and the endless stream of words coming from his mouth while he muttered to himself about things he was working on.

This. It was something Derek was used to. He spent an awfully lot of time keeping an eye out for Stiles--like this--in the past year.

_Lurking, you were totally lurking outside my window, Derek. Admit it._

Suddenly, he remembered how he had scowled at him when he said that, how Stiles had grinned back and made jokes about watchdogs, how Derek shut him up with a kiss. Derek shuddered with the memory.

He let three hours passed before climbing up to the window.

By then Stiles had already passed out, head resting on his laptop, and lips parting slightly. His whole body collapsed against the desk in a supposedly uncomfortable position. There was a brief moment he spent hesitating, doubting would Stiles locked his window when the only person to ever climb through it was supposed to be gone, before he pushed at it and found it unlocked.

Derek slipped inside then spent another ten minutes letting everything sink in. He glanced around the room and found that Stiles had redecorated; his bed was now pressed to the wall, posters were replaced by photos, pieces of newspapers and maps, and his desk had its side to the window. The room smelled different too. The mix of dirt and cinnamon that was Stiles’ natural scent was still lingering but there were new scent, like sweat and the salty smell of tears.

_Fear._ He realized.

Right at that moment Stiles started twitching on the chair, his face contorted into a scowl, his hand gripping the armrest. He muttered a sentence, over and over again, and when Derek took a step toward him, he flinched.

Stiles stopped flinching when Derek approaches him months ago.

Derek thought of going back to Arizona, leaving this town and his past far behind. He thought about telling Scott that he couldn’t help Stiles, that he wasn’t trusted anymore.

Then he thought of Claudia Stilinski and the fact that she wasn’t here to protect her family, and he took another step forward.

He lifted Stiles off his chair, cradled him in his arm while he carried the boy back to his bed. Now that Derek had Stiles’ mouth pressed to his left ear, he could make out what Stiles was saying.

_“Where are you?”_

Stiles was probably dreaming about his parents, or maybe Scott, but Derek answered anyway. “I’m right here, Stiles. I’m right here.”

That startled him awake. He flailed dangerously in Derek’s arms and after the three seconds it took Derek to realize Stiles was struggling to break free, he let him go. He felt a dull ache in his chest, looking at Stiles’ horrified expression, but he ignored it.

Stiles landed messily on the bed, looked up at Derek, and slapped himself.

Derek bolted forward just in time to stop the second hit, he grabbed Stiles’ wrists and pulled them around his neck. He used one hand to keep them there and the other to wrap around Stiles’ waist and pull them closer. He kept whispering “Shhh. I’m right here. It’s okay. We’re okay I’m right here…” in Stiles’ ears and he could feel the struggling drained out after a few minutes.

When Derek pulled back to look him in the eyes, he only saw sadness and resignation.

“Please, let me wake up.”

Stiles said to him, his voice cracked and tears tingling on his eyelashes. Derek cupped his face, thumb caressing his pale cheek.

“You are awake, Stiles.”

Stiles let out a whimper and buried his face in Derek’s neck. “Please. Don’t. Don’t do this to me. Please.”

“I’m back, Stiles. I’m right here.”

Stiles burst out a historical laugh. “No, no you’re really not.” Then he kissed him.

Surprisingly, Stiles’ lips still tasted the same. They were still as soft and as sweet as they used to be, Derek gasped with the memory and dived in for more. Stiles ran his hand through Derek’s hair, tugging and pulling. Derek’s hands automatically landed on Stiles’ hips, pulling him forward until their body were flushed against each other.

Three minutes later, Stiles leaned back and tripped both of them over.

They stopped kissing abruptly. Stiles was on his back, pinned to the mattress by Derek’s weight, his hands resting on Derek’s shoulder blades, and his legs parting slightly. One of Derek’s hands was on Stiles’ thigh and the other under his head. They looked into each other eyes, trying to figure out what will happen next. Then Stiles smiled.

“You even kiss the same. These darkness things are doing a pretty damn good job, getting me to lose my mind.”

His voice was sad, broken and desperate. Derek wanted to protest. He wanted to explain that this was reality and he really was back. Instead, he kissed Stiles again, and again, until that sad smile slipped away from his face and he hummed contentedly.

“At least it’s a good dream this time.” Stiles whispered against his lips. Derek wasn’t sure how his face looked like after hearing that sentence, knowing what it implied, so he snuggled in closer and nosed at Stiles’ jaw, scenting him and trying to cover the smell of sadness that lingered on his skin.

After about five minutes, Stiles put a hand on his chest, pushing him off. Derek complied easily and let himself be manhandled to lie on his side. Stiles turned away and pressed his back to Derek’s chest, drawing Derek arm around his torso. His eyes drooping shut when he muttered into the pillow. “Sleep with me, Derek.”

Derek shifted closer, and did.

 

-*-*-*-

 

Five hours later, Derek heard a footstep coming into the room. When he opened his eyes, sheriff Stilinski was standing beside the bed.

“He let you in?”

Technically, Derek let himself in, but he nodded anyway.

The sheriff seemed contented with that. He shuffled closer to the bed to put his hand on Stiles’ head and stare right into Derek’s eyes. This close, he could clearly see the worry and wariness in the older man’s eyes. Apparently, it had been a rough three weeks for both Stilinski men.

“He didn’t wake up in the middle of the night?”

“No.”

The sheriff looked relieved by that. He straightened up and nodded once, probably to himself. Then, he turned his gaze back to Derek again, as if to double-check everything. Right before he turned to leave, Derek spoke up. “He thought he was dreaming.”

The sheriff froze, so he continued. “Stiles didn’t believe I came back. I tried to convince him but he wouldn’t buy any of it.”

Derek tightened his arms around Stiles’ waist when he stirred and began murmuring nonsense. It was Stiles’ normal habit, nothing to worry about. But the sheriff must have thought otherwise because he turned back completely to scrutinize the two of them. He kept his expression blank while tiny wheels turned and locked into places in his head, another characteristic passed down to Stiles.

After a short while, he announced coolly “Then you should probably just get out.”

Derek was stunned, but he might have seen that coming, actually. He understood where the sheriff was coming from. From what Scott had told him, Stiles’ grip on reality was the lasting keeping him sane. Now that Derek had been labeled as ‘unreal’, his existence would only shatter Stiles’ defense, no matter how happy it made him. Or how much Derek wanted to stay by his side.

He thought about the sorrowful smile Stiles had on his face, about how his eyes had watered, about how he hit himself trying to wake up, trying to get away, and a bitter realization hit him.

Derek was a good dream. But Stiles didn’t need a good dream, he needed reality.

Gently, he tugged his arms away from under the blanket and got out of bed. When he retrieved his discard jacket and headed for the window, the sheriff pulled the door open and said “This way.”

Taking one last look at Stiles’ sleeping face, he closed the door behind him and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Derek mentions Claudia because this was supposed to be a sequel to something I started writing a few months ago. Obviously, I'll never finish that one so let's just say that the Hales knew Claudia who was mysteriously /magic/ before she passed away.


End file.
